It’s been a while since I posted — I started this blog last August and only managed one entry. But today felt worth sharing. It was one of those days where movement, music, and soil all worked together to snap me out of the sludge that can build up in the mind.
I started early, and the garden pulled me straight in.
Morning in the Garden
After breakfast (plus my usual Creatine, Vitamin C, and Zinc), I headed out to prepare a spot in my long border for one of this season’s dahlia seedlings. The soil is on the clayey side, so I double-dug the area and worked in compost to improve structure. Normally I’d prefer Charles Dowding’s no-dig method, but time is tight — this season the border is doubling as a dahlia testing bed, so urgency wins out.
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| Preparing the new bed with compost before planting |
Back in October, I collected dahlia seeds from a mix of varieties:
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'Verrone’s Obsidian'
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'Bishop of Dover'
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'Bishop of York'
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'Tam Tam'
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'Moonshine'
They dried out on the patio all winter. In March, I soaked them in liquid seaweed for 24 hours, then sowed them in trays — some indoors on windowsills, others in coldframes. Now I’ve got about 20 young plants ready to go. Most of them are probably 'Verrone’s Obsidian' offspring (a real brute), though a few clearly carry the dark, purplish Bishop foliage.
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| A whole line-up of my dahlia seedlings — grown from seed and ready for planting |
Later this evening, I’ll plant the first one. I’m running low on Blood, Fish, and Bonemeal, so I’m considering alternatives like seaweed extract, chicken manure pellets, or comfrey tea.
As I worked, I listened to Carol Klein discuss planting schemes. Her advice on rhythm and structure is exactly the kind of language I want to bring to this border — repetition that feels deliberate, but broken up by strong focal plants. All of it should draw in pollinators. I want the whole space to move with color and buzzing life.
Training Outside — Then Inside
Once the bed was ready, I had a coffee and let my body cool for a while. Then it was time for a proper workout.
I started my HIIT session with a movement I’ve been dialing in:
Weighted Step-Ups with Explosive Drive
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One foot placed firmly on a picnic bench
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Opposite leg drives upward to a full stand
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I swing the opposite hand like an uppercut to stay balanced
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I use 4kg weights in each hand, alternating legs for 5 minutes
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| The workout kit — 12kg kettlebell and 4kg hand weights ready for use |
This move torches my glutes — which I’ve been deliberately building up lately. It’s not just aesthetics (though yes, it’s making my arse hard and shapely), it’s balance, strength, and total-body alignment. After that, I moved into kettlebell work (12kg), with the sun pounding my skin and deep house pounding in my ears. Rhythm helped carry the whole session.
Eventually, I went indoors — mostly to escape that creeping worry that someone might be watching. I finished the session in private, dancing. Not random — a blend of movement, control, and intention. I’ve started calling it clandestine exercise — rehab for the mind as much as the body. It especially helps with my shoulder, which has a chronic issue. The looseness that comes from dancing frees it up better than any stretch.
The whole workout went long — about 40 minutes. I should probably cap it at 25–30 for proper HIIT structure, but I don’t regret it. I felt strong the entire time.
Why I Do This
The digging, the lifting, the dancing — it’s all part of a bigger effort to stay grounded. Depression creeps in when I stop moving. It feeds on stillness and self-pity. I’ve lived in that fog before. These routines — planting, planning, sweating — they pull me out of it. They give me something to shape, something to show for the day. Better to make something beautiful than produce nothing at all.
Next season, I’ll design the long border properly — 25 to 40 feet in length, thought out from start to finish. This year is about testing: the dahlias, the soil, myself. But today felt like a real step forward.
And that’s enough.
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